


Drowning Back to Life

by Marauder_Emaelyn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Black family trauma, First War with Voldemort, Fix It Fic, Nightmares, Regulus Black Lives, Regulus lives AU, first wizarding war, sibling angst, war with voldemort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:28:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25337638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marauder_Emaelyn/pseuds/Marauder_Emaelyn
Summary: When Regulus Black went to find Voldemort's locket, he fully expected to die.What happens when he doesn't?
Comments: 24
Kudos: 92





	1. Is This the Real Life

**Author's Note:**

> Well, we can blame Lost and Elli for this one. I was writing something completely different, but when I told them I was struggling to focus on it and that I'd come up with this idea, they decided this one was more important.  
> Also, thank you to Book and Felix for deciding I needed to write it in chapters so that they could read it sooner.  
> And thank you Felix for being my Beta!
> 
> TW: First off, this chapter does open up right to a near death experience. This fic is going to in general have a lot of descriptions of some not so happy situations, including flashbacks to what it was like growing up in Grimmauld Place. I'll try to leave specific warnings on each chapter.  
> The specific warnings for this one are mostly just the near death experience. It does go into detail, but it isn't gory or anything.

Regulus kicked hard against the hands wrapped around his ankles. Slimy arms circled his chest, pinning his arms to his sides. He struggled desperately as he watched the horrified face of Kreacher leaning over the water get farther away. But for all his furious writhing, he couldn’t shake the inferi. His lungs burned with a need for oxygen, and it took every ounce of self control to keep from taking a deep breath and filling his lungs with water. He could hardly see the surface above him now, and the water grew perceptibly colder the deeper he was dragged.

A strange sense of calm settled over him as his limbs grew heavy and his vision blurred. He was barely aware of his lungs filling with water…

The pain in his chest was now a throbbing sensation, and he gave a last half hearted kick with his numb legs…

Far away, a _crack_ seemed to echo around…

Flashes of multicoloured light seemed to dance on the surface of the water…

Regulus seemed to register the fact that the arms had disappeared from around his chest, which was still throbbing dully…

The multicoloured lights seemed to be all around him now, dancing between the forms of people long gone…

Nothingness seeped into his spotty vision and bleary mind…

**_Kill the boy, and the man will appear._ **

For a long time, Regulus’ mind seemed to float. He was at one point aware of something pressing hard against his mouth, his lungs forcefully filling with air. Then nothing for a while. At some point, there were muted voices in the distance, far beyond the reach of his blank mind. Dreams of dim corridors and raised voices flitted through his mind, sometimes followed by more nothing, sometimes followed by memories of flying spells and broken shouts and pitiful gasps of pain, always too far out of reach for Regulus to interfere. The void of thought and presence always returned, splitting every blurred moment.

**_Sometimes you must die to truly live._ **

When Regulus finally awoke, his first thought was that death was very disorienting. He thought it would be nice if someone could put a warning on that, because Regulus was definitely not expecting to be this groggy and confused.

The next thing he noticed was that he was in more pain than he’d imagined for being dead. His chest felt tight and sore, his limbs heavy with exhaustion. He was hoping not to feel so much after he died. It wasn’t just pain he felt, either, he realized gradually. He was lying on something soft- if a bit lumpy. And there was a cool breeze coming from somewhere to his left, combated by the brilliant heat to his right. And sounds. He could hear the tell tale crackling of a hearty fire from the same direction as the heat.

He finally realized that perhaps he should open his eyes. His heart thudded painfully when he saw the dark, low ceilinged room before he registered the fact that the ceiling was rotting wood. 

It wasn’t Grimmauld Place. 

He wasn’t dead. 

It hadn’t all been a nightmare. 

He wasn’t sure which thought shocked him the most. 

Glancing to his left showed him nothing but a wall of patchy, faded orange, which he took to be the back of a sofa. Shifting his head slightly to the right gained him the sight of a greying brick fireplace, filled with a furiously crackling fire. A dull yellow rug covered in dark stains and riddled with holes occupied the space between Regulus and the cracked hearth, a broken fire iron in a stand beside the bricks. What little he could see of the stone floor was cobbled and well worn. Everything about the place should have put Regulus on guard, but he felt surprisingly safe. Safe, in a place he’d never seen before, where he woke up after dying. Or, at least, he’d thought he’d died. He didn’t appear to be dead now, so perhaps he’d never finished dying.

Regulus made an attempt to sit up, but was met with a splitting headache. His vision suddenly spotty, he fell back against the sofa with a groan, in which he discovered that his throat was quite sore as well, and groaning only caused him more pain. Drowning had definitely happened, he was sure. Or nearly drowning, at least.

“Are you awake, Reg?” Regulus felt his mind freeze at the sound of the familiar voice. No, not familiar. This voice was too rough, too tired. It held the weight of a thousand years, the worries of a million worlds. It was deep and quiet, and he couldn’t help but think there was only one time he’d heard a voice more broken. This was not the voice Regulus knew, not one he’d heard, but it was unmistakable. 

“Siri?” Regulus croaked, trying not to wince at the burning sensation from saying something so simple.

“Yeah, it’s me, Reg.” A face suddenly filled Regulus’ line of sight, one that was far too familiar. Raven hair fell elegantly across broad shoulders, perfectly framing aristocratic cheekbones and a sharp jaw. Silver eyes seemed to glow in the firelight, sitting beneath perfectly sculpted eyebrows. A narrow nose was scrunched just slightly above lips curled into a tentative smile.

It was the same face seen everywhere Regulus went. The perfect description of any Black, yet it was so much more.

Regulus had always thought it was the face of everything a Black _could_ be. What, if he’d ever really bothered to consider it, he thought he _should_ be.

It was Sirius.

Regulus felt dizzy as his brain kicked into gear and he registered all the information. A flurry of emotions roared through Regulus’ chest; mostly, relief. The furrow he hadn’t realized had been in his brows smoothed slightly as he took a deep breath. Sirius was here. If Sirius was here, then maybe that meant he didn’t hate Regulus, didn’t hate him after their fight two years ago. If he was here, maybe becoming a Death Eater hadn’t quite ruined everything for Regulus.

Regulus wasn’t dead. 

He wasn’t at Grimmauld Place.

Sirius was here, and he didn’t hate Regulus, and Regulus wasn’t dead, and he wasn’t at Grimmauld Place.

A glass of water was held to Regulus’ lips by his brother, just barely angled to let the water trickle into his mouth. Regulus drank gratefully, realizing just how thirsty he’d been. The cool drink helped soothe the burning in his throat.

“That was too bloody risky to do alone, Reg,” Sirius murmured as he set the glass of water somewhere beyond Regulus’ head after he’d finished drinking. Regulus tried not to roll his eyes.

“Had to,” he managed to reply, though even after the water his throat felt raw. Sirius shook his head gently.

“Don’t try to talk right now. And you didn’t have to go alone. Though I suppose that’s rich coming from me, seeing as how I’ve been such a jerk, isn’t it?” Sirius let out a bitter chuckle and Regulus shut his eyes, biting the inside of his cheek. Sirius had never been at fault in his eyes. Even when he was filled with bitterness and hurt at being left to face Them alone when he was fourteen, he couldn’t blame Sirius for leaving Grimmauld Place. It never should’ve been on Sirius’ shoulders to protect him from Their wrath, in the first place. He only wished he’d been brave enough to escape.

“Don’t you dare start blaming yourself for what happened, Reg.” Regulus hated the way Sirius seemed to be able to read his mind, even though he wasn’t a legilimens. At least, not that Regulus knew. Regulus didn’t open his eyes, not wanting to see the fierce determination in his brother’s eyes. Or the guilt. He couldn’t remember ever seeing Sirius without guilt. It was as ingrained in him as his posture, as his bravery and mischievous tendencies. He was inseparable from guilt that shouldn’t have ever belonged to him in the first place. Regulus hated it. “Reg. I know it isn’t your fault. You do realize that, don’t you?” Regulus barely shook his head as he finally opened his eyes, facing his brother’s gaze, which was filled with a quiet desperation.

“Not yours, either,” Regulus croaked tiredly. He watched Sirius’ eyes widen just a fraction before his gaze dropped away, hands beginning to fiddle with the zipper of his leather jacket. 

“I said you shouldn’t talk.” Regulus smiled bitterly. He loathed the fact that the guilt was so easy to pick out. It just never went away; no matter how hard Sirius tried to hide it, Regulus could always see the undeserved guilt hiding in Sirius’ expressions.

“Don’t care.” He swallowed around the pain in his throat. “You needed to listen.” Sirius rolled his eyes half heartedly.

“Always wanted me to listen, didn’t you?” He said wryly.

“Always wanted you alive.”

“...Yeah. There were a couple close calls there, I suppose, weren’t there?” Regulus squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block the flood of memories. He wouldn’t focus on that now. He couldn’t.

“Where are we?” He rasped. Sirius gave a slightly self conscious smile.

“Uh, cabin in the woods in the middle of nowhere. Order safehouse. Don’t worry, no one knows you’re here.” Regulus’ eyes widened.

“Why would you do that?” Sirius shrugged.

“I needed to get you somewhere safe. This is safe, and it was also the closest place to get to.” Regulus shook his head.

“What if you get in trouble?”

“I don’t care.” Regulus scoffed.

“Why wouldn’t you? You shouldn’t take risks.” Regulus resented how broken and scratchy his voice was. It made it very hard to be condescending towards his older brother.

“I don’t care, because I don’t think I trust Dumbledore. He acts like the war is a chess board or something. He uses people, and he likes people who are especially easy to manipulate and control. Seeing as I am not, he likes to set me aside and not let me help.” Regulus couldn’t help the wry grin that stretched across his face. If anyone knew that Sirius was uncontrollable, it was him. “Anyway, if he thinks he can just set me aside and forget about me, he’ll see how much I can do without him.”

“Is that wise?”

“I dunno, is it _wise_ for you to keep talking when I _told you_ it would tear your throat up?” Regulus rolled his eyes. Sirius sighed. “Listen, I may not know everything that’s going on, but I don’t think an old wizard with a history of using people and being flippant with lives leading everyone is a good idea.” Regulus nodded slowly. He supposed it made sense.

When a large yawn escaped Regulus, he was annoyed. There were still so many things he wanted to ask, so many things he wanted to say, but he was just _so_ tired. If the look in Sirius’ eye was anything to go by, though, he understood.

“You need to get some rest, Reg,” Sirius murmured, grabbing a blanket from somewhere beyond Regulus’ feet. He hadn’t realized how cold he’d gotten until the blanket was on him. “We’ll talk more tomorrow, okay? You’ve had a long twenty four hours.” As Sirius left the room, Regulus let the day wash over him.

He was safe.

Sirius was here, and he didn’t hate Reg.

He was alive.

He was safe and alive, and Sirius was here and cared, and he wasn’t at Grimmauld Place.

Regulus finally let himself begin to relax.

**_A smothered child never lives._ **


	2. Is This Just Fantasy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: Regulus has nightmares about his past. They are...  
> Very not good. There's some pretty bad abuse going on, really.  
> I think that's all that's in this chapter, though. <3

_ Regulus stood behind his father, posture stiff, face carefully crafted into a blank mask. Every flash of light from the other side of the room made it difficult for him not to flinch. He watched his Mother’s mouth form around minor hexes and the darkest forms of magic alike. Each one hit Sirius, ripping screams from his mouth until his throat was raw. The choked sounds of pain that followed were even worse, tearing at Regulus’ heart. _

_ “You are a disgrace! A disservice to your family and its name!” Each screech from Her mouth dropped a stone into Regulus’ stomach. _

_ “Good,” Sirius gasped out. “I...I won’t be like you!” His face twisted into a sneer as Hers contorted with anger. _

_ “We’ve let you continue on like this for far too long! A disgusting Blood Traitor, and a Muggle Lover, and a Gryffindor! This is no way for the Heir to be acting!” Another hex. _

_ “I’m disgusting?” Sirius choked out. “You are the- sick witch… who would rather cut people away than let y-your stupid pureblood get contaminated!” _

_ “You will not speak to me like that!” Something darker flew from Her wand. Regulus didn’t want to see what came next. _

_ “The Blacks are nothing-nothing but vile, evil, disgusting, self absorbed monsters!” Sirius spat out. Regulus wanted to turn away. He wanted to wake up. “If I am a disgrace to this ‘noble’ bullshit, then I must be doing something right.” Regulus didn’t want to see this again. His heart thudded painfully as his brother added in a softer voice, “Reg, yo-you should go.” He wished desperately he had. _

_ “Stay PUT!” Walburga did not even turn around. “You will see what happens to traitorous heirs who disobey.” She readied her wand, and time seemed to slow. Regulus wanted it to be over. _

_ Sirius raised his chin defiantly, somehow still looking regal and noble kneeling in a pool of his own sweat and blood swirling together across the living room floor. His limbs were shaking with pain and exhaustion, his clenched fists pressed flat against the floor to keep his balance. Regulus could see Her mouth forming around the curse. He stood, still and silent, and watched as his brother got hurt without interfering, like the coward he was. _

_ “Crucio!” Regulus’ jaw clamped shut as he fought against crying out. Sirius writhed on the floor, choked sobs and screams tearing past his lips. Regulus’ vision blurred as he watched, and he blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears from spilling down his face. He felt his hands begin to tremble at his sides, but he couldn’t stop them. He just stared fixedly at his brother, with only a single thought racing through his mind: _

**_Coward._ **

**_Coward._ **

**_Regulus Black, you are a stupid coward._ **

**_Smother a child, and he will never live._ **

When Regulus awoke for the second time in the secret cabin in the woods, he decided that waking up feeling groggy and confused and thinking he was dead was much more pleasant than being torn from a nightmare. He sat upright, gasping for breath, his hands clenched into fists. He was drenched in sweat, and he couldn’t be sure if his cheeks were covered in tears as well or not. He began to try to steady his breathing, pushing away the memories that always lurked too close to the surface. It took awhile, but eventually he began to calm down. He couldn’t help but bitterly think that it used to be easier to compose himself. But back then, it wasn’t just his own wellbeing at stake.

His new upright position won Regulus a better view of his temporary safe haven. Beyond the back of the couch, there was a small table with two chairs pushed up against the wall. To the left of that was a doorway leading off to the rest of the cabin, Regulus presumed. On the side of the sofa beyond Regulus’ feet there was a matching faded orange chair, sitting beneath a high window. When Regulus carefully scooted back into the corner of the sofa, he caught sight of a rickety end table behind him, at the opposite end from the chair.

Somehow, the room felt more ominous with sunlight filtering through the high window, highlighting the suspiciously brownish red stains across everything.

Regulus pulled the grey blanket that Sirius had brought in -- the only thing that seemed remotely new or clean -- back up over his lap, and leaned back against the sofa. Just two days ago, he’d been prepared to die. He nearly had. Now that he hadn’t, he really wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do. He hadn’t planned anything beyond retrieving the locket.

Regulus wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting there when he heard raised voices coming down the hall. He tensed for a moment before he recognized the voices, a small smile taking over his face.

“...still here?....Moan about me...She probably misses you…”

“Master needs me…..disgusting blood traitor….but Master…”

“Then stay out of my way!”

“Horrible, ungrateful blood traitor, nothing but a muggle loving-”

“Kreacher, please stop insulting my brother.” Kreacher’s head whipped around as he entered the room, and catching sight of Regulus, he bowed low to the ground.

“Of course, Master, no more describing the disinherited heir.” Sirius rolled his eyes as he walked in behind Kreacher, carrying a tray laden with food.

“He’s been  _ such a joy _ to have around to help,” he said dryly, coming around the sofa. Regulus pulled his knees up to his chest as Sirius sat down on the opposite end of the sofa, setting the tray between them.

“I’m so glad you two are finally getting along, then,” Regulus sniggered. Sirius rolled his eyes again. He wordlessly picked up a piece of toast and began to nibble on it. Regulus opted to grab a bit of soft fruit.

“You sound less like you’re dying this morning,” Sirius said after a moment.

“Feels less like I’ve died.”  
“...I suppose that makes sense.” Another silence. “Kreacher coming to me for help should tell you how much you worried him. And me.”

“Didn’t ask you to worry.”

“Didn’t ask you to try and die without anyone ever knowing what happened.”

“It wasn’t about you.”

“No, it was about  _ you _ , which is my point.”

“It doesn’t sound like it.” Regulus took a deep breath, holding up his hand to cut Sirius off. “Can we not do this right now? I’m tired. I don’t need an argument.” Sirius clenched his jaw before nodding reluctantly. For a while, the two ate in silence.

“Would Master like some tea, perhaps?” Kreacher asked, bowing low beside Regulus. Regulus smiled.

“That would be wonderful, Kreacher. Thank you.” Kreacher somehow managed to bow lower.

“Master is too kind,” He said, backing out of the room.

“You take that back,” Regulus laughed after him. When he turned back, however, Sirius was giving him a strange look. “What?”

“Nothing,” Sirius said, shaking his head. “Nothing. Just, sometimes I forget how much you care about your house elf.”

“He isn’t mine,” Regulus said, voiced tinged with regret. “He’s the Black family house elf, and any order he gets given by Them undermines my own. I’d much rather it if I could take care of him.”

“You do too good a job of it, anyway.”

“Why do you have to hate him so much?” Sirius sighed, setting down his fork.

“Because. It’s one thing to follow Her orders because you have to. It’s another for Kreahcer to have cackled at a child when he was acting out his orders to lock me in the cellar.” Regulus didn’t respond. He wasn’t sure how to. He couldn’t explain why he felt so much of a desire to protect the elf, nor could he comprehend the difference in how Kreacher treated the two of them. Surely there was a reason?

Was it really just Her influence?

Did She really hate Sirius that much more than Regulus?

“So, you nicked...Something from Voldemort. What now?” Regulus didn’t answer. Isn’t that the same question he’d already asked himself? There wasn’t an answer yet. He had never planned this far.

“Tea for Master Regulus.” Kreacher hurried in, setting the tea tray down on the table behind Regulus. Regulus gave the house elf a wan smile.

“Thank you, Kreacher.”

“Too kind, Master, Too kind.” Regulus sighed.

“Yeah, I know.” Regulus sipped his tea, ignoring Sirius’ stare.

“Okay, how about you tell me what you stole?” Regulus huffed.

“Okay, fine. A locket.”

“Why was there a locket in that death chamber, and why is it important?”

“Nosy,” Regulus said, rolling his eyes. Sirius huffed. “It’s a Horcrux.”

“What?” Sirius’ eyes widened as he dropped his fork. “He made-”

“Yes.”

“How did no one know?”

“He’s careful. He isn’t an idiot.”

“He must be if he’s splitting his bloody soul.”

“No, he’s psychotic. There’s a difference.”

“Right.” The two lapsed into another tense silence.

“...Does Master need the locket back now?” Sirius gave Kreacher a strange look as Regulus turned with a bit of a tense smile.

“No, Kreacher. Can you hold onto it for me? Just for now.” Kreacher bowed low.

“Of course.”

“Thank you.” Sirius raised his eyebrow.

“You’re leaving it with Kreacher?”

“Yes.”

“Is that wise?”

“Shut up, Sirius. I know what I’m doing.”

“I know, but-”

“I’m not a child anymore.”

“I never said you were!” Regulus stared down into his tea, fuming, while Sirius glared daggers at him. It wasn’t uncommon for them to fight; it had never been, but Regulus still despised it. He took a shaky breath.

“Can we please not do this?” Sirius took his own deep breath, standing up.

“I let you get some rest.” Regulus nodded as Sirius grabbed the tray. He squeezed his eyes shut as Sirius walked out of the room and down the hall, wishing that every interaction didn’t have to end in a fight.

**_Be there a story or tale_ **

**_About a boy who succeeds against his will?_ **

For a long time, Regulus just sat on the sofa in the cabin in the woods, trying not to think too long about any subject. They all seemed to warp back around to Them. To Grimmauld Place. To much too still nights following much too horrible days.

To the day he wished to forget.

Regulus had no idea what time it was when he finally decided to get off of the sofa and stop sitting around. He couldn’t keep thinking in circles. He’d go mad. In a childish feeling move, Regulus wrapped his grey blanket around his shoulders before heading into the hall. He didn’t want to admit how much better he felt hiding in his blanket.

The hall was narrow and dim, the walls and ceiling the same rotting wood as the sitting room. Regulus quickly moved through, not wanting to spend more time in the small area than necessary.

He found himself in the doorway to a surprisingly bright kitchen, with big windows overlooking a beautiful forest. The walls were still old rotting wood, the floor cracked cerulean tiles. The counters may have been white marble at one point, though now they were very discoloured, riddled with fractures and covered in more mysterious stains. The oven was brick, ideal for magical cooking, but there was a muggle fridge in the corner. The left side of the room held another large window, as well as a bent iron table, set with three chairs, which looked quite unstable.

Sitting in one of these questionable chairs, staring out the window, was Sirius.

“What happened in this cabin, anyway?” Sirius whipped around, relaxing once he saw Regulus standing in the doorway.

“Not a clue. Probably used to be a Dark wizard’s hideout before they were taken down forcibly.”

“Explains the blood stains.”

“Could’ve also been haunted.”

“Less likely.” Regulus took another look at the shredded cabinets and cracked fractured counters. “New theory.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. Werewolf.” Regulus watched as Sirius tensed.

“Nah, unlikely.”

“Why’s that?”

“...Just is.”

“You know exactly what happened here, don’t you, Siri?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know you. I can see you’re hiding something.”

“Drop it.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“...Fine.” Regulus thought he really ought to stop letting Sirius get away with anything just because he said please. That wasn’t going to happen today, though.

“I already asked, and you didn’t have an answer, but what now, Reg?” Regulus crossed the room to lean against the wall by the window, watching birds flitting among the trees. He sighed. He had no clue how to answer, because he still didn’t know. He was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that he was  _ alive _ , much less that he could continue  _ living _ and  _ doing _ .

“I don’t know,” he said finally, voice soft. “It’s not like I can head back to the Death Eaters now. And I doubt I’d be  _ useful _ for Dumbledore, though I’m not sure I’d want to be anyway.”

“We can start by heading back to my flat,” Sirius murmured in response. “You don’t have to join the war effort on our side, but it’s somewhere to stay. We have plenty of space for you until you figure out what you’re doing.” Regulus nodded.

“Maybe. That might be the best plan for now.”  
“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“Good.” Regulus stared out into the forest, a thousand thoughts fighting for attention. He didn’t have a plan, but he had somewhere to stay. He  _ stole _ from Voldemort, and now he was still alive to be tracked down. He’d signed the bloody letter, too. That thought brought a chuckle out of him unbidden, sounding more mad than genuine.

“Reg, what’s so funny?” Regulus shook his head, shoving back the laughter. He cleared his throat.

“Nothing. Nothing at all. I’m just the dramatic moron who stole from the Dark Lord and left him a signed letter in the locket’s place.”

“You did  _ what? _ ”

“I’m an idiot.” Another tense silence spread between them.

“...We’ll figure this out.” Regulus just nodded. The second Voldemort discovered his locket was missing, and that R.A.B. had stolen it, he was going to be a high priority target. He knew that. Still, he couldn’t help but think that maybe his brother was right. Sirius always seemed to know more than he let on, after all. Regulus’ mind began to wander again, the same few thoughts always prevalent.

He was alive.

He wasn’t at Grimmauld Place.

He was safe(ish) and alive, and Sirius was here and he didn’t hate Regulus, and they weren’t at Grimmauld Place.

Regulus couldn’t help but think it had to point to sunny days.

**_Give hope a chance to kill you._ **


	3. No Escape From Reality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: This chapter deals a lot with Reg having Claustrophobia and Nyctophobia. There's also some sections with him feeling like his phobias are dumb? Like, he does some internal bashing of himself for having dumb fears.  
> Regulus has nightmares again, so there are more references to abuse.
> 
> This chapter is a little shorter than the first two, because I ended up having to split it up. I will hopefully have the next one ready soon <3
> 
> Minor edits made to this chapter, because I forgot to mention what happened to Kreacher!

_Regulus thumped his head against the door as it swung shut, letting out a single sob. The dark of the cupboard had always terrified him. The feeling of the walls getting closer. The shadows creeping in. He fell back against the wall, sinking down in the corner. He hugged his knees to his chest, trying to control his breathing. Trying to stop the flow of tears. Sirius always got much worse punishments. And Sirius was always fine. If Sirius could be fine, then Regulus had to be fine in the cupboard. It couldn’t hurt him. Surely he’d be fine._

_The shadows seemed to push in closer, the sliver of light from beneath the door doing nothing to keep them at bay. Regulus could feel the walls closing in, could feel eyes watching him in the space between shadows. He couldn’t breathe. They were closing in, and he couldn’t make them go away._

_Regulus desperately wished Sirius were here. He’d always been able to keep the eyes at bay, stop the walls from closing in. Sirius knew how to stop the monsters._

_But Sirius was at Hogwarts. He was a Gryffindor at Hogwarts, and the news had sent Her into a fit of rage. Regulus knew he shouldn’t have said anything._

_But what was so wrong with Sirius being brave?_

_Regulus wished he could be brave. But the walls were closing in, and the eyes were watching, getting closer, and it was hard to breathe._

_“G-g-go aw-ww-away,” Regulus whispered, but it was no good. Eyes didn’t listen to terrified little boys. Walls couldn’t hear whispers._

_Regulus squeezed his eyes shut, trying to breathe, pretending Sirius was on his way to scare off the monsters._

**_A smothered child never lives_ **

For three more days they stayed at the cabin in the woods. For Regulus, they were three days filled with arguments and nightmares and long hours alone, trying to collect his thoughts, trying not to think.

Sirius sent Patronuses and owls constantly, talking to who, Regulus didn’t know, but it seemed like a lot of people. Yet, he couldn’t help but think his brother’s frustration wasn’t from a single message he received; rather, it seemed there was a message he was waiting for that didn’t come.

Regulus woke up each morning -- or before morning -- drenched in sweat, trying to catch his breath and push away memories that never left. He could tell Sirius had noticed, but thankfully he made no comment. Though somehow, even with carefully avoiding sensitive subjects, the two couldn’t seem to go long without a fight. Regulus couldn’t quite understand why everything Sirius did seemed to get under his skin, or why he seemed to get so easily on Sirius’ nerves, but arguments sprung up over the smallest things.

Regulus couldn't even spend the whole time with Kreacher, who was summoned back to Grimmauld Place two days after Regulus woke up. He bitterly thought he should've let the fact that Kreacher returned from Voldemort's cave remain his secret. Then at least She would be less likely to call for him.

When a mug flew into the wall to Regulus’ left as he entered the battered kitchen, he nearly turned around and left again. If Sirius was already in a mood, there was sure to be an argument. But the mortified look on Sirius’ face as he saw Regulus was enough to get him to stay put, quirking up an eyebrow.

“That was not meant for you,” Sirius said, almost a question.

“I gathered.” Sirius sighed deeply as he dropped into a chair. “What’s happened, Sirius?” He hadn’t called him Siri since he woke up that first night, hadn’t been sure he even still could, fully conscious and aware of himself. It was like a long past name used by a different boy. A boy who trusted his big brother, who thought that nothing in the world was too big for his brother to handle.

“Nothing’s happened,” Sirius grumbled. Regulus continued to give him an incredulous look. “Which is the problem.”

“Why is that a problem?”

“It’s not. It shouldn’t be. I’m overreacting.”

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter.”  
“Maybe I think it does.” Sirius glared at Regulus, who walked farther into the room, dropping into the chair across from him. “Come on. What are you hoping for to happen?”

“It really isn’t anything major,” Sirius sighed, wiping a hand down his face. “I haven’t heard from Remus in a while. He didn’t tell me where he was going before he left. Hell, he didn’t even tell me he was leaving. I only find out he’s leaving when he’s gone, and when he’s back, he’s...different. Not a good different.”

“Oh, good, relationship drama,” Regulus said dryly. Sirius gave him a strange look. “If you’re gonna pine after your mate the entire time we’re at Hogwarts, you can’t expect me not to notice.  
“I haven’t been pining!”

“Right. And I’ve cared about every person She ever set me up on a date with.”

“Shut up.”

“Fine.” The two lapsed into uneasy silence once again.

“We can leave today,” Sirius said eventually.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. I was hoping we could wait until I heard from Remus, but, there isn’t really anything else. I’ve got the all clear that I haven’t been followed, so we can head out whenever.” Regulus nodded. He wondered if it would even make a difference. If it would be any better to be holed up in Sirius’ flat than to be holed up here. Though he supposed he might be able to keep up with events in the war, or find books to read and research there. Still, the thought of going there filled him with just a touch of dread.

He hadn’t lived with his brother in four years.

And much as he tried not to, he couldn’t stop thinking about the last time they’d lived together.

And that last night.

The worst night of their lives.

He once again did his best to shake the thought from his mind; to at least push it away so he could function.

“Well, then, what are we waiting for?”

**_Anger sets the heart through a sieve_ **

Regulus was surprised to walk into the living room of his brother’s flat and find it clean and orderly. The grey couch was draped with a red and gold blanket, and the coffee table was complete with an empty tea tray. There were two bookshelves on either side of a rather out of place brick fireplace, completely filled with all manner of books. Even from his spot in the entrance he could see they were fully organized. Beyond the living area he could see a hallway leading off to the left, presumably to the bedrooms. Opposite the hall was a doorway through which Regulus could make out a clean, white kitchen.

“Welcome to the Marauder’s Flat,” Sirius said, stopping in the middle of the room with his arms out, a strained smile on his lips. “Population: me, most days.”

“How is this your place?” Regulus asked, glancing around the room. “It’s so clean.” Sirius’ smile grew tighter.

“Don’t blame me for that one. This is all Remus’ doing.”

“That makes more sense.” Regulus wondered whether their arguments or their tense silences were more common. He wished he knew the right way to talk to his brother, but years of ignoring each other and being mad seemed to make things more difficult.

“Er, so anyway, the bedrooms are down this hall here,” Sirius said, walking towards the hallway. Regulus followed him down the hall to the second door, where he entered a small room filled with boxes. “It’s, uh, it’s a bit cramped, since we’ve still got a bunch of James and Pete’s stuff around in here. But, yeah.” Regulus walked over to the small desk in the corner, carefully moving the boxes out of his way.

“This will be fine, thank you,” he said. He glanced around the room, noting the lack of windows and the single exit. He took a measured breath, not letting his shoulders tense up. The room was fine. He closed his eyes. It was fine. He wasn’t There. 

He was fine.

He was less than fine when he woke up actually yelling in the middle of the night, breaths rapid, skin clammy. He wished he didn’t dream in There any more. Too often he woke from the cupboard, stuck in the cramped darkness. It shouldn’t still scare him as much as it did, but it was hard to get over when he relived that particular punishment multiple nights a week still. He sat for a long time, trying to steady his breathing. He glanced at the walls, tilting inward. No, they were staying still. His mind was playing tricks, he knew that. Still, the walls tilted ever farther down, getting closer. He couldn’t calm his breathing. The walls continued to lean ever closer, and he couldn’t breathe.

He had to get out.

He stumbled across the room to the door, breathing ragged, and wrenched the door open. He managed to stumble all the way to the window seat in the living room before collapsing, gulping down air as he stared out onto the streets below. He watched the streets for a bit before glancing up at the sky, where he could see few stars, but the nearly full moon shone bright overhead.

“Reg?” Regulus whipped around at the sound of a voice heavy with sleep across the room. Sirius stood in the entrance to the hallway, concern etched into his brows.

“Sorry,” Regulus murmured, “Did I wake you?” Sirius just shook his head.

“Don’t apologize,” he said, walking across the room. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

“Nightmares?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Does when you wake up yelling.”

“Please just shut up.” Regulus turned back to stare out the window, breathing finally evening out. He hated that Sirius was still just standing behind him. He wanted to be alone.

“You know you can tell me about it, right?”

“I don’t care, Sirius.”

“...Okay.” Regulus rested his head against the window, savoring the feel of the cool glass on his forehead, the view of outside and not a cramped space and anywhere but There.

“...You should go back to bed.”

“What about you?” Regulus shrugged.

“I’ll go to bed in a bit.”

“...Alright. Good night, Regulus.”

“Night.” Regulus listened to the sound of Sirius padding back down the hall, and then the gentle click of his door shutting. He let out a deep breath, fogging up the window, and then continued to sit there.

He thought about everything, tried to avoid thinking about Them, and the cupboard, and his stupid irrational fears. He should be over them. He’s an adult, he should be able to sit in a small bedroom or a dark corridor without freaking out.

Maybe he was as much of a childish joke as they’d said.

He was still sitting at the window when the sun peeked out over the tops of the buildings, colouring everything in a rosy glow.

**_Sometimes you must die to truly live_ **


	4. Open Your Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, finally have the next chapter finished!
> 
> TW: Okay, so Regulus has an interesting mix of panic attacks and ptsd going on, which is starting to be really apparent in this chapter. It's probably going to continue to be pretty prevalent from here on in, so if that's something that'll trigger you, please don't read farther.

_ “Come on, cousin, it’s your turn!” Regulus stepped forward beside Bellatrix, trying not to shake. Benjy Fenwick was curled up on the ground in front of them, his entire body trembling. Regulus glanced at Bellatrix, who gave him what he assumed was supposed to be an encouraging smile and gave him a rough shove in the back. He stumbled forward a step, taking another one before kneeling smoothly beside the trembling man. _

_ “Come on, Fenwick,” Regulus murmured, letting a hard edge that he didn’t feel cover the waver to his words. “Surely you can tell me something instead of putting yourself through so much pain?” Regulus felt sick just saying the words. It wasn’t Benjy’s fault that he was hurt; it was theirs. It was Regulus’. Regulus, who would rather sit and watch wizard after witch after wizard be tortured and killed than stand up for what’s right. Benjy attempted a laugh. _

_ “I have nothing to tell you, Death Eater.” The title ached every time it was directed at Regulus. “Besides, you’re going to kill me anyway. Or someone is.” Benjy dropped his voice to barely a whisper. “You don’t belong here, Black.” Regulus clenched his jaw to keep it from shaking. Oh, how he knew he didn’t belong here. He knew that everything about being a Death Eater made him sick. But he’d never gotten a choice in the matter. This wasn’t what he’d wanted. Regulus did his best to paint a sneer on his face. _

_ “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he spat. Benjy let out a soft sigh. _

_ “Okay, Regulus, fine.” Regulus’ heart dropped. “I don’t blame you, but we both know who’s right.” _

_“Enough Chatting!” Bellatrix shrieked, sounding mad. “We’ve already established he isn’t going to tell us anything. More torturing, cousin!” Regulus gave Benjy a long look, eyes pleading, suddenly desperate for him to understand. Benjy gave him a shaky grin, eyes filled with understanding, which just made standing up hurt so much more for Regulus. He closed his eyes, wishing he were anywhere but here. He pointed his wand, trying not to think about what he was about to do. Trying not to think about where he’d learned these spells. Who they’d been used on._ _  
__“Just tell us something,” Regulus tried one last time, knowing it was useless. Benjy was too loyal. Too smart to think there was any way this would turn out better for him. And he was right._

_ “Got nothing to tell you, Death Eater.” The title burned again, but somehow Regulus knew it wasn’t directed at him. He opened his eyes to see Benjy staring at Bellatrix, hatred written all over his face. Bellatrix looked mad with delight at what was about to happen. Regulus closed his eyes again. _

**_I’m sorry,_ ** _ he thought bitterly as he took a deep breath. He knew what words came next. He hated them. _

_ “Crucio.” _

**_A smothered child never truly lives_ **

Regulus woke up with a start, and it took him a moment to figure out where he was. Gradually, his eyes focused in on the window on the opposite side of the room. He glanced down to see the book resting in his lap. He’d fallen asleep reading in the living room. Again. That was the third time in the week they’d been here. Though he supposed it was better than staying up until sunrise without sleeping.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t grateful for the place to stay, and the room to himself to sleep. He just couldn’t sleep there. Every night he tried sleeping in his room, and every night he ended up back in the living room, often reading, always trying to push back the nightmares and the terror that reared its head out of nowhere. It was frustrating, really, to not be able to sleep there. Rationally, Regulus knew he was perfectly safe, and that he was a long way from Grimmauld Place, out of Her reach. Yet he couldn’t tamp down the panic that rose in him to wake up in the dark and cramped bedroom; he couldn’t make the walls stop shifting, or the shadows stop sneering. 

Shadows didn’t sneer. 

But his did. And he couldn’t figure out how to make them stop.

Regulus turned his head as he heard a door open down the hall. He watched as Sirius padded into the living room, but instead of acknowledging him, Sirius just walked right past into the kitchen. Regulus let out a heavy breath through his nose, trying not to let his frustrations out. It wasn’t just Sirius’ fault that they weren’t getting along, after all. Maybe it wasn’t anyone’s fault. Regulus didn’t know. If he knew, maybe he could fix it.

Regulus took another moment to take a deep breath, then he stood to follow Sirius into the kitchen. There, he found his brother already brewing coffee, sliding toast into a toaster (Why bother using a muggle toaster?). He quickly busied himself with making a cup of tea, not saying a word to Sirius. It was a wonder they ever got anything done, with all the time they spent ignoring each other in the past two days. It had been easier than fighting every five minutes. Then again, when Regulus thought about it, they really didn’t get anything done anyway. It would be impressive if they did, though.

“Would you like some toast?” Sirius asked suddenly, startling Regulus. He managed to keep from spilling the hot water he was pouring into his cup, biting his tongue to keep from snapping at Sirius.

“Sure,” Regulus answered once he’d calmed down, nodding. Sirius gave a returning nod, then set about fixing up more toast.

Neither of them said anything else as they ate their breakfast. They didn’t speak throughout the whole morning as Regulus sat reading in the living room and Sirius hid in his room, doing who knew what. They didn’t speak at lunch, nor did they speak throughout the afternoon. It wasn’t until evening that either one said a single word.

**_Kill the boy, and the man will appear_ **

“What’s wrong with you?” Regulus asked, stepping into the kitchen as Sirius slammed his glass into the counter, miraculously not breaking it. Sirius just glared at him.

“What’s wrong is that I’m stuck in my own bloody flat with no one wanting to give me information while I’m babysitting you!” Regulus clenched his jaw.

“Babysitting me?” He asked, incredulous. “Why do I need a babysitter? I’m perfectly capable of handling myself, thanks!”

“Oh, yes, I forgot, periodic panic attacks are  _ normal _ , and there’s no chance of you having one bad enough that you’ll injure yourself.” Regulus took another step into the room, hands balling into fists at his side.

“No one asked for your opinion, Sirius. I can handle it.” Sirius rolled his eyes.

“No, you can’t, and if you think I don’t know that, don’t notice that, then you’re an idiot.”

“Oh, yes, thanks, call me an idiot. That’s so helpful!”

“More helpful than ignoring me all week!”

“I was avoiding you because I didn’t want to fight!”

“Well, that worked out so well, then, didn’t it?!”

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

“I don’t need a dead brother.”

“Well, we both nearly had that, now haven’t we? You don’t get to pull that, Sirius!”

“Stop acting like it’s comparable! Admit it, you wanted to die!” Regulus stumbled backwards, feeling like his brother’s words were an actual blow to his chest.

“You. Don’t get. To try to tell me. What I wanted.” Regulus said slowly, refusing to let his voice waver.

“Tell me what your plan was.”

“Shut up.”

“Tell me!”

“The plan was that I would die! Happy now? I figured I would die, but at least I’d die helping to defeat The Dark Lord, and at least that way I’d be out! So, yes, Sirius, I thought I was going to die! That doesn’t mean I wanted to!” Sirius stepped forward and waved his arm pointedly at Regulus.

“See? That’s my point! You don’t get to compare you planning to die to me standing up to Her!”

“You aren’t even listening! And yes, I can, because you  _ knew _ what She would do! You knew exactly what would happen! And you did it anyway!”

“Oh, so just sitting back and being the perfect heir for Her should’ve been my plan? Let Her try to make me just like Them?”

“No! It’s bloody good for you, you great idiot! Congratulations, you got out! Want an award?”

“Then why are you so mad that I stood up to her?!”  
“Because you seem to forget who else was in the room that night!” Sirius blinked heavily as Regulus heaved a deep breath, squeezing his fists tighter at his sides.

“Of course I don’t forget that you were there, Regulus,” Sirius said, his voice filled with barely contained outrage. “I told you to-”

“Oh, don’t,” Regulus snapped. “If you think for one second They would have let me leave that room, then you’re more of an idiot than I thought.” The furrow in Sirius’ brow deepened.

“Reg-”

“Just shut up, okay?!” Regulus gripped the back of a dining chair, standing across the kitchen table from Sirius.

“I’m sorr-”

“No, you aren’t! Because what I felt didn’t matter! It never did, did it?”

“Of course it mattered, Reg!” Sirius yelled. “Every single bloody thing that ever happened to you mattered! You think I didn’t pay attention to any of it? I cared about everything that They did to you!”

“Yeah, that’s why you left me There to fend for myself against Them! Against Her!” Regulus screamed, finally letting out six years worth of pain. The kitchen was silent save for Regulus’ irregular breathing. Sirius stared at Regulus, jaw hanging open, guilt pooling in his eyes.

“I-” Sirius took a step forward. Hesitated. “I- Reg-” he stopped. Swallowed. Took a deep breath. “Regulus, you  _ know _ I never wanted what happened that night. You have to know I didn’t want to leave you there.” Regulus closed his eyes against the tears pooling in his vision.

“Of course, I know that,” he breathed. “I- I  _ know _ that. I-”

“I hated myself so long for leaving you there.”

“I could never bring myself to hate you. I couldn’t do that.” Sirius shook his head, smiling bitterly.

“You should’ve. I left you there. I left you there against Them. I left you there while I escaped and finally got away from Her Bullshit.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Of course it was!” Sirius slammed his fist against the counter. “I-I should’ve- I should’ve-”

“Should’ve what?” Regulus asked tiredly.

“Should’ve done everything different! I shouldn’t have just left you there, to be Her puppet! I left you with Them, and then I got mad at you for becoming a Death Eater when I left you where you wouldn’t get a bloody choice!” Regulus felt the familiar burn at the title, and couldn’t help the shudder that wracked his body.

“Sirius-”

“I’ve been such a self centered prick! You needed me, and I ran!”

“Siriu-”

“I never should’ve left you there! And I knew that! I-”  
“SIRIUS!” Sirius stared at Regulus miserably. Regulus let his head fall forward to rest on the back of the dining chair he was still leaning on.

“Stop blaming yourself, you bloody idiot.”

“I-”

“No,” Regulus said, picking his head up to stare at Sirius. “You had to get out. You think I don’t know that? I was there watching, remember?” Sirius flinched.

“I know.”

“You had to leave. If you’d stayed any longer…”

“I still shouldn’t have left you there.” Regulus shook his head.

“Maybe not. But it shouldn’t have been your job to watch after me. To...to raise me, practically. To protect me from Her.”

“Of course it was my job.”

“Idiot. What I’m saying is that it shouldn’t have been. A five year old shouldn’t have to stand in front of his little brother to protect him from their mother.” For a moment, the kitchen was silent again. Then, Sirius began to laugh. A dry humourless laugh, sounding more than slightly deranged.

“We are so messed up, aren’t we?” Regulus clenched his jaw. He hated that laugh.

“When has that laugh ever been helpful?” Regulus demanded, unable to bite back the remark. Sirius gave him a half grin, half sneer.

“When has anything I’ve ever done in my life been helpful?” He shot back. “When has it ever mattered, anyway?”

“Well, it’s not like we have a way to gauge whether acting differently makes a difference, seeing as you’ve never tried!” Sirius scowled.

“Why are you being such a prick?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because we were finally having a serious conversation about everything before you started cackling like a madman!” 

“I always have Sirius conversations,” Sirius bit back immediately, eyes widening as he clamped his mouth shut.

“Oh, come  _ on _ , Sirius!” Regulus shouted. “Everything is a joke to you, isn’t it?” The scowl returned as quickly as it had disappeared.

“That isn’t true, and you know it!”

“Then stop acting like it!”

“Of course this whole damn thing is serious, Reg!”

“Then why aren’t you treating it as such?”

“I AM!” Sirius kicked a chair away from the table, and it hit the wall with a crash. “I’m taking this seriously! I’m taking  _ you _ seriously! I’m taking this bloody war seriously! How could I not? People are  _ dying! _ ” Regulus closed his eyes, taking a shuddering breath, trying desperately not to remember. Not to see their eyes. Any of them. His breathing grew more ragged as he tried to push away their faces. Tried to push away the memories.

_ Benjy stared back at Regulus, his eyes full of understanding. _

Regulus fell back against the wall, not noticing the tears on his cheeks, not noticing his heart beating erratically, not noticing Sirius vaulting over the table to get to him. He couldn’t push him out of his mind. Couldn’t forget.

_ “You don’t belong here, Black.” _

“Reg, hey, hey, Reg, listen to me,” Sirius was saying, somewhere far away. Regulus tried to listen to him, he did. But he couldn’t stop from sliding back there. All he could see was Benjy, shaking on the floor, still staring at Regulus through steady eyes.

“ _ I don’t blame you, Regulus.” _

Regulus felt a pressure around his hand, and then a steady heartbeat beyond his palm. A steady breathing pattern. He somehow managed to find Sirius’ eyes, calm and collected and staring back at him.

“Reg, try to follow my breaths, okay?” Sirius’ voice was far off and muted, but Regulus nodded. He tried to follow the deep breaths that Sirius was demonstrating. It took awhile, but eventually Regulus managed to even out his breathing. He hadn’t realized just how tight his chest had felt until the pressure began to ease. He became more aware of his surroundings; somehow he’d ended up on the floor in the doorway to the kitchen, facing back in the direction of Sirius, who was sat on the floor in front of him. Sirius gave a small smile.

“Hey.” Regulus ducked his head behind his knees, instantly feeling like a child.

“Hi.”

“Do you feel better now?” Regulus shrugged his shoulders, not sure how to respond. He was back to functioning, but he could still feel the memories, lurking at the edges of his mind. He knew they would just come back again. He couldn’t get rid of them.

“I still don’t need a babysitter,” he said petulantly, cheeks heating slightly. Sirius sighed.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he said softly. Then, “I don’t want to fight with you, Reg.” Regulus lifted his head slightly, peering at his brother over his knees. “I don’t want you to hate me.”

“I don’t hate you, Sirius,” Regulus replied, letting out a soft sigh. “I-I  _ can’t _ hate you, I never could. And I can’t blame you for anything, either. Merlin, how I wish I could’ve just hated you. It would’ve made my life so much easier if I could’ve blamed you for everything.” Sirius let out a watery chuckle, and for once Regulus didn’t hate his laugh.

“Reg, I-” Sirius stopped short as Regulus heard the front door open. He stared past Regulus’ shoulder, mouth still open mid sentence, his gaze blank at what he saw. Or rather, who he saw. Regulus twisted around to look over his shoulder. There, standing just outside the door to the flat, was Remus Lupin.

**_No, only death comes to the unwilling_ **


	5. I Need No Sympathy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: This one is actually a pretty tame chapter, I think! A bit of a warning about some lasting effects from manipulation, and also some referenced abuse, but I think that's it this time.
> 
> Also, I made a couple changes to an earlier chapter. In chapter three, I definitely didn't mention what happened to Kreacher! So that's been added in. Basically, Regulus' fears were right, and Walburga summoned him back to Grimmauld Place.
> 
> Okay, that's it! I hope you enjoy<3

Regulus wasn’t sure how long the three of them just stared at each other. He also wasn’t sure what to make of the blank look on his brother’s face. Sirius was the one who’d been complaining about not knowing where Lupin was for nearly two weeks, yet now he just stared at him like he didn’t even know who was standing there.  
Lupin had seen better days. You could tell Regulus the man standing in the doorway was a zombie and he’d believe you. His eyes were sunken, with heavy bruises underneath. His hair was limp and disheveled. He looked majorly off balance, and was favouring one leg as he stood there. The man looked like he’d walked through hell on his way home.

“Remus,” Sirius murmured eventually, suddenly scrambling to his feet. His eyes never left Lupin. “Merlin, are you…” Sirius trailed off, and Remus gave a ghost of a smile.

“As alright as always,” he said, just as quiet. He lurched forward into the house, and Regulus thought his leg must be bad for the way he hobbled, but just as he had that thought, Lupin adjusted his gait, walking into the flat with barely a limp. Regulus would’ve bought the first lurch as a misstep if not for the carefully controlled expression on Lupin’s face, a look he was all too familiar with; a perfect mask hiding immense pain. Merlin knew the times he’s seen Sirius wearing it. He probably wore similar.   
Lupin limped right past Sirius standing just in front of the kitchen door. Sirius turned to watch as Lupin limped down the hall, not turning away until he heard the click of his room door closing. He seemed to deflate then, his shoulders hunching slightly as he ran his hands through his hair.

“Well.” Sirius turned around to glare at his brother.  
“Well, _what_ , Reg,” he asked, exasperated. Regulus got to his feet, only slightly shaky.

“Well, I guess I just wasn’t expecting things to be  _ quite _ that bad between the two of you.” Sirius scowled for a moment, then let out another sigh as he buried his face in his hands.

“I just don’t understand what’s happening,” he groaned. “Whatever bloody missions Dumbledore has him going on are absolutely running him into the ground, yet it’s like he doesn’t even notice. Or doesn’t care.”

“Have you tried talking to him?” Sirius let out his grating laugh.  
“Oh, right, never thought of that one.”  
“Well, it’s not like you do very often, so…” Sirius sighed.

“I’m...I’m getting better at that. Or trying to.” Regulus found he didn’t have a response to that. It’s not like he’s really spent time around his brother in the last four years, so who’s he to say that isn’t true? Maybe he’s changed more than Regulus would like to admit. Matured. Gotten better.

Moved on from Grimmauld Place.

Regulus wished he could do the same.

“Anyway, yes, I’ve tried talking to him. The most I’ve gotten out of him is that he isn’t allowed to talk about his missions.” Regulus considered this.

“So how are you the only one to notice that Dumbledore isn’t as wonderful as he seems, then?” Sirius crossed his arms, letting out an agitated huff.

“Because. James has idolized the man since we were kids. About died when he laughed at one of our pranks. Peter follows James’ lead on who to trust more often than not. And Remus...Well, he’s got his own reasons for loyalty to him. Bad reasons, but regardless; none of them are listening to me about it, so it doesn’t really matter, does it?”  
“Your entire little circle is built around secrets, isn’t it.”  
“Like you’re one to talk.”  
“...No. You’re right. The difference is you all seem to share yours.” Sirius curled into himself further.

“Apparently not all. Not anymore.”

“So there’s no one else for you to find out from then?” Sirius looked up.

“First, that’s a terrible idea; asking for more information than what Dumbledore gives you inside the Order. Second... I already tried that.” Regulus couldn’t help but laugh.

“Of course you did.” Sirius scowled, but it wasn’t so deep as earlier.

“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, it didn’t do me any good. No one else knows anything.”

“Odd.”

“Exactly. Shouldn’t  _ someone _ know  _ something _ about it? I mean, surely there would be other people going on those missions with him?”

“Could be solo missions.” Sirius shook his head.

“No, Dumbledore always sends us out in at least pairs.There’s no way someone else wouldn’t know something.” Regulus leaned back against the wall behind him, pinching the bridge of his nose slightly. Sirius’ face softened.

“No, don’t do that,” Regulus grumbled, dropping his hand.

“Do what, Reg? Worry? It’s too late for that.”

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah, I know, so you keep saying,” Sirius said dryly. “Why don’t you get some rest, okay? We can talk more later.” Regulus just shook his head.

“I don’t need to rest,” he insisted.

“Yes, you do. You hardly sleep, and-”

“I can’t, okay?” Regulus snapped. Sirius’ eyes widened in surprise before he nodded.

“Yeah, I know,” he said softly. “Will you let me help now?” Regulus let out a snort.

“How do you suppose you’ll help?”

“Well, I can’t if you don’t talk to me, but to start with I can give you some Dreamless Sleep.” Regulus sighed.

“I don’t know how much it’ll help,” he replied softly.

“Okay, then talk to me. Tell me why you can’t sleep,” Sirius said, just as soft.

“Nightmares are only part of it.” Regulus shrugged. “I…” Regulus trailed off, before mumbling incoherently.

“What was that?” Regulus groaned.

“I- I’m still… Scared of small, dark spaces, okay?” Regulus glared at his feet, feeling utterly idiotic. He should be over this. It was a stupid fear, yet here he was, not even able to sleep in a bedroom because it was just bit too small, a bit too dark. Regulus started a bit when Sirius put his hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Sirius giving him a small smile.

“Okay,” He said, like it was the easiest thing in the world. Like his little brother being an idiot who was still afraid of the dark was the most normal thing he’d heard. “I can work with that. We can move you into my room, if you’d like. It’s only a little less cramped, but there’s a window, and there’s plenty of light from outside.” Slowly, Regulus nodded. Maybe it would help, after all. And he really did need to get some sleep. He was exhausted. Maybe not as tired as Lupin looked, but still.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “Okay, yeah, we can try that.” Sirius’ smile widened.

“Great,” he said, squeezing Regulus’ shoulder slightly before stepping back. “Let’s get you settled in there then, and see if you can’t get some rest finally, yeah?” Regulus followed Sirius down the hall, grabbing the few things he wanted from ‘his’ spare room.

Walking into Sirius’ room felt much more like a place that was his brother’s. There was random clutter everywhere, though the desk under the window opposite the door was miraculously clean. There was one bed to the left of the door, shoved up against the wall. It was also surprisingly neat compared to the rest of the room. Around the corner, there was another bed squashed between the wall and the desk, which was more in theme with the cluttered space. Half the bed was covered in laundry, the other half having the covers pulled up haphazardly. Across from that bed was a small bureau, the drawers partially open, showing off more unfolded clothing thrown inside. The top of the bureau was hidden by a mess of necklaces and earrings and eyeliner pencils. Regulus stared at that particular detail with a raised eyebrow. Sirius caught his brother’s look and laughed.

“Yes, amazingly, not everything I did to piss Her off was  _ just _ to piss her off. I also happen to like eyeliner and necklaces.” He said, still laughing.

“I’m more impressed you haven’t lost it all in this mess.”

“Oh, whatever. It’s a controlled mess.”

“Yes. It stays in your room.”

“I know where everything is.”

“I’m sure.”  
“Like yours would be any better.”

“It would be, actually. It always was.”

“That’s because Kreacher actually liked you, and cleaned your room for you.”

“I told him not to, actually. He did enough already.”  
“Really?”

“...We may have pretended he was cleaning my room when I had him sitting with me because I was scared of being alone.” Sirius laughed lightly.

“Ah. That makes sense, suddenly. Maybe you should remind me to apologize to him at some point.” Regulus was silent for a moment.

“You had plenty of reason to be upset with him, you know.”

“Yeah, well, taking care of you puts anyone in higher standings with me, so,” Sirius said, flopping into his bed. Regulus rolled his eyes.

“By that standard, She’s in higher standing with you, too.” Sirius sat up quick at that.

“No,” he said fiercely, and Regulus was proud to say he didn’t recoil at that. “None of what She ever did qualifies as taking care of you. None of it.”

“Si-”

“I mean it. That wasn’t Her caring, that was Her controlling us. It isn’t anywhere near the same.” Regulus fell silent. He couldn’t excuse any of what She’d done. But surely Sirius realized that, like it or not, She  _ had _ taken care of them?

Hadn’t She?

Of course she had. Right? She took care of them. She looked after them. She raised them. She was awful, but she cared.

She had cared, hadn’t she?

“Reg,” Sirius said, and Regulus jerked his head up to look at his brother. “I can see your brain whirling. What is it?” Regulus shook his head slightly.

“I just- it- it’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, or you wouldn’t be looking so lost right now.”

“She did care, didn’t She?” Regulus whispered. He hadn’t meant to say it aloud, but the words came out anyway. Sirius’ eyes hardened.

“Reg,” he said gently, and Regulus looked at the ground. “Please hear me when I say this: it doesn’t matter whether she cared or not. She hurt you. She hurt us. It doesn’t matter if it was with a twisted level of maternal care that She had, She was toxic. Okay?” For a moment, Regulus didn’t respond. He couldn’t help but try to understand. Surely she cared? And if she cared, then she couldn’t be  _ all _ bad.

Right?

“Reg.” Reluctantly, Regulus looked up at his brother. Sirius’ eyes were soft, but his voice was firm. “It doesn’t matter if She cared, because of what She did. She didn’t even feel bad about it, and you can’t argue that fact. She’s insane, and we can’t just write off what She did, okay?” Finally, Regulus nodded.

“Okay,” he whispered. He clenched his jaw against a yawn, but of course Sirius noticed.

“Alright. Got that out of the way. Let’s get you some sleep, okay?” Regulus reluctantly agreed.

“Yeah. I’m assuming this clean bed is mine?” Sirius grinned wryly.

“I mean, I don’t know why you wouldn’t want this one,” he said, patting his own bed, “But sure. I  _ guess _ you can have that one.”

“How generous.” Regulus said it sarcastically, but he really still didn’t understand how quickly his brother had trusted him again. Or even the fact that Sirius still cared. It didn’t make any sense to him.

“Do you want to try Dreamless Sleep now, or do you want to wait until tonight?”

“I’ll wait to use it.”

“Alright.” Sirius got up, walking over to the window. He pulled the curtains closed, leaving them a sliver open, sending the room into a dim twilight. Regulus climbed into his new bed as Sirius crossed back to the door. “We’ll talk more when you wake up, yeah?” Sirius asked, and there was a hopeful tone to his voice. Regulus nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah, we better.” Sirius gave a small relieved smile.

“Sleep well, Reg.” With that, Sirius left the room, pulling the door mostly shut.

Regulus lay there staring at the ceiling for a while, thoughts swirling through his mind. For once though, his mind was filled to the brim with ghosts and cupboards. He thought about happier days; stolen moments filled with stories and adventures, or the kind of secrets that only children can find fun to keep. He thought of his first trip on the Hogwarts Express, that day when for a moment, everything seemed possible.

He wondered if that wasn’t the case again.

**_Sometimes you must die to truly live_ **


	6. Anyway The Wind Blows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: past abuse, in Regulus' dream, but, another relatively tame chapter beyond that.
> 
> Hope you enjoy<3

_ “So then, they came across this gigantic dragon!” Regulus gasped as Sirius transfigured a sock into a crude dragon plushie. He sat at the head of his bed, tucked under the heavy blankets. Sirius handed the dragon to him. _

_ “What did they do?” Regulus asked, awed. “Did they kill it?” _

_ “No, silly,” Sirius laughed. “The dragon was imprisoned. It was too sad to even breathe fire at the little wizards.” _

_ “So, what? What happened?” _

_ “They freed her, of course!” Regulus gasped again. _

_ “Wait, really?” _

_ “Yeah! And the dragon was so grateful, she gave them a ride off to the ends of the forest.” _

_ “So that they could find the treasure?” _

_ “The fountain. That was filled with special magic water that could cure any illness.” _

_ “Well? Did they find it?” Sirius leaned in close. _

_ “Well, it’s a bit of a secret…” Regulus widened his eyes. _

_ “I can keep a secret, Siri!” Sirius looked unconvinced. _

_ “Are you sure?” _

_ “I promise,” Regulus whispered. Sirius’ eyes darted around the room, then he leaned in super close.  _

_ He lifted his hand to cover his mouth as he whispered, “They found a pack of werewolves that were guarding it!” _

_ “Oh, no!” Sirius laughed. _

_ “No, no, it’s awesome!” Sirius jumped to his feet. “The werewolves were only mean to big mean wizards who didn’t like werewolves just because they were werewolves.” _

_ “Really?” Regulus asked, doubtful. “Mother says-” _

_ “Trust me,” Sirius said darkly. “She is wrong. She only says that because She’s a big mean witch who doesn’t like werewolves.” _

_ “Oh.” _

_ “So anyway, the werewolves invited the wizards to stay with their pack for a while, and-” The door to Regulus’ bedroom opened with a bang. Regulus dropped his dragon plush as Sirius turned to face the door, wide eyed. In the doorway, She was standing with Her arms folded across Her chest, fury etched into her brows. _

_ “Why are you in here?” Her voice was stern and cold. Regulus began to tremble. Sirius just lifted his chin and looked her in the eyes. _

_ “I was telling my brother a bedtime story,” he said, and Regulus was awed by his icy tone. It nearly rivaled Her’s. “Since you can’t be bothered, someone ought to tuck him in.” _

_ “Get out. Now.” Regulus shrank back against his pillows, willing his brother to listen. Sirius just clenched his jaw. _

_ “I want to finish the story,” he said. She turned her gaze on Regulus, and he shook harder. _

_ “Regulus, what was this story he was telling you about?” Regulus’ eyes widened. He knew Sirius would get in trouble if he told. But he didn’t want to get in trouble, either. _

_ “It-it was a-a-about-” _

_ “Speak properly!” _

_ “Leave him alone!” Sirius yelled, standing between Her and Regulus. “He’s four, and you’re scaring him! You can’t expect him to talk like a proper adult!” Her cold eyes turned back to Sirius, fury pooling in their depths. _

_ “You will not speak to me that way,” she said, slowly and deliberately. Regulus clenched his teeth to keep from crying. She hated when he cried. “Kreacher!” With a crack, the house elf appeared at her side, bowing low to the ground. _

_ “Yes, Mistress?” _

_ “Take Sirius down to the cellar. He needs a reminder of how to act. He can spend the night there.” _

_ “Yes, Mistress.” Kreacher grabbed Sirius roughly by the arm, who began to struggle. _

_ “No! I’m- not- going!” With a crack, the two were gone. _

_ She took one last look at Regulus, then swept out of the room, slamming the door behind Her. Regulus listened until he couldn’t hear Her footsteps, then began to cry quietly. He leaned over and picked his dragon off of the floor, clutching it tightly to his chest. _

**_A smothered child never truly lives_ **

They didn’t talk that night.

When Regulus finally woke up, it was long past dark, and Sirius was already asleep. The bad news: Regulus still dreamt. The good news: between the light from the window and the sound of his brother’s even breathing, Regulus was able to calm down faster. After he calmed down, he stumbled down the dark hall to find some food, noting the light coming from beneath Lupin’s door. A midnight snack in the way of leftover chinese takeaway later, Regulus headed back to Sirius’ room. He wondered briefly at the light that was still on in Lupin’s room, but figured it had nothing to do with him. He had enough on his plate as an ex-Death Eater in hiding at his estranged brother’s flat.

When he got back to Sirius’ room, he paused. Instead of heading back to bed, he quietly climbed atop the desk, sitting cross legged and staring up at the sky outside the window. The half moon shone between clouds, bright in the sky even with all the lights from below. The moon had always seemed comforting and dangerous to Regulus, a gentle light and a menacing eye. Maybe it came from the feeling of everything being a spy for Her. Or maybe it was just how the moon was. His friend when he’d climb on the roof in the lonely nights without Sirius, his enemy when it taunted him from behind locked windows.

Regulus sat there for a long time, contemplating the moon, before he finally headed back to bed, falling into a peaceful sleep.

**_Give hope a chance to kill you_ **

When Regulus awoke the second time, he was surprised to find the room empty and bright. He’d slept past Sirius waking up. He’d slept. Undisturbed by dreams. Just, slept. It was almost as disorienting as dreaming itself was.

He laid there for a while, just enjoying the feeling of restful peace that had settled over him sometime in the night. Eventually, he got up to head down the hallway, looking for Sirius. He found him sitting at the kitchen table, a pile of letters in front of him. They were all unopened, however, and in Sirius’ hands was a copy of the Daily Prophet. His eyes were glued to the page, staring in disbelief.

“What’s happening, then?” Regulus asked, sitting in the chair opposite his brother. Sirius finally looked away from the paper to stare at his brother, a blank look on his face. Then, he began to laugh. It was his rare laugh, like someone had just told him the funniest joke on earth.

“What, Sirius?” Regulus asked, impatient. Sirius wordlessly handed Regulus the paper, still laughing. At first glance, Regulus didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. He couldn’t figure out what his brother thought was so funny about the obituaries. Then, he saw: his own name. Regulus Arcturus Black, April 14, 1961 to January 22, 1980. For a moment, all he could do was stare, uncomprehending. He looked back at Sirius, who’d finally stopped laughing.

“Apparently,” he said, grinning wide, “She has decided you’ve died. There is a dead man living in my flat right now.”

“I-” Regulus started, not sure what to say. “I- Why. Why would She think I’m dead?” Sirius shrugged, still grinning.

“I mean, you have been with me for about two weeks now, Reg,” he replied. “If she went asking Death Eaters where you were, and they all just said some variation of ‘I don’t know, woman,’ then She’d probably assume Voldemort killed you and didn’t want to tell her, now wouldn’t she?”

“I guess,” Regulus said, brow still furrowed. “So, everyone thinks I’m dead now.” He said it flatly. There wasn’t a question; the only people who knew he was alive were Sirius and Lupin now. He was a ghost.

“It’s good news, you know,” Sirius said, and Regulus raised an eyebrow. “Come on, it is! No one’s gonna be looking for you now, you don’t have to worry about Voldemort hunting you down for stealing his horcrux, She isn’t gonna look for you, it’s good!” Regulus nodded. He knew Sirius was right. And really, why would he care if everyone thought he was dead? It wasn’t as if he had any friends that he’d regret worrying. Anyone he’d even remotely cared about was dead now. Regulus pushed the thought away as soon as he had it; he wasn’t going to freak out again this morning. For a while, the two sat in silence, Regulus still staring at his name in the paper. His name that was declaring him dead.

“So,” he said softly, not looking up. Sirius hummed in response from where he was finally looking through his mail. “You wanted to talk.” Sirius paused.

“Yeah,” he said, just as softly, as he set down the mail he was reading. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I did. We. Well. We have a lot to talk about, I guess.” Regulus nodded. Both fell back into silence.

“Where do we even start?”

“That, is a good question.” Sirius sighed. “It’s been...it’s been a long four years, Reg.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll start with what you missed, maybe?” Regulus finally looked up at Sirius, rolling his eyes.

“You went to stay with Potter. Probably took you awhile, but I know eventually you began to think of him as your brother and his parents as your own. You moved on with your life, made up for whatever idiotic things you’d been doing before you finally left, dated someone, graduated. Joined the war.” Sirius just stared at Regulus for a moment, silent.

“Well, not much for details in there, but yeah. More or less.”

“Brilliant. Didn’t miss anything.”

“Why,” Sirius asked slowly, “Do you know so much about it, anyway?” Regulus folded his arms over his chest.

“You’re predictable,” He said simply. Then, he mumbled, “Not like I had much else to pay attention to. You left, but I was still just as bored and lonely.” Sirius rubbed his neck, face sheepish.

“Oh.”  
“Yeah.” They fell into silence again.

“Well, then,” Sirius said, taking a deep breath. “What about you? Surely I missed something, because I was too busy being a prick to notice what was going on with you.” Regulus snorted.

“Let’s see,” he said, faux thoughtfully, “I doubled down on my efforts on school work for a couple years, because that seemed to make Her a little less insane. Then I may have started researching Voldemort when I was fifteen.” Sirius made a confused sound. “What? This age’s darkest wizard shows up, and he doesn’t flaunt a family name? Doesn’t use anything to boost the idea of his power beyond secrecy? I was intrigued. I didn’t want to join him, I just. Wanted to understand.”

“And do you?” Regulus gave a wry smile.

“I understand Tom Marvolo Riddle better than most, I’d say.” Sirius stared at Regulus thoughtfully.

“You. You, my little brother, found Voldemort’s real name.”

“When I was sixteen.”

“I feel like I should be more surprised.”

“I’m surprised no one saw me coming, really.”

“No one’s going to suspect anything from Walburga Black’s perfect loyal son.”

“True. You did always take the spotlight quite well.” Sirius frowned slightly.

“Definitely not on purpose,” he muttered.

“We both know it was on purpose,” Regulus replied. “Just not the way anyone thinks.”

“Enlighten me, then.” Regulus sighed.

“So you didn’t mean to make Her angry every time you yelled at Her for trying to make me grow up faster?”

“Well, yes, but-”

“And you didn’t mean to upset Her by telling Her She was wrong about Her views on blood purity?”

“I mean, yeah-”

“You weren’t trying to get Her riled up by arguing about werewolves’ rights?”

“Yes, but-”

“So, you’re trying to tell me that you weren’t constantly trying to grab Her attention so that it stayed on you? And  _ only _ you?” Regulus gave Sirius a pointed look, who was staring at the edge of the table. He sighed again. “I knew what you were doing even then, Sirius. You weren’t that subtle. She was just too deranged to notice.”

“Well, at least it worked.”

“At least you didn’t die doing it.”

“...Yeah. That, too.” Regulus sighed.

“I think you and I need to stop leaving death as an afterthought,” he said softly. Sirius finally looked him in the eye.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he agreed, just as quiet. “I will stop being an utter idiot if you stop being a stubborn brat, how’s that?” Regulus couldn’t help but laugh.

“Sure, why not?”

“Good.”

“Yeah.” The two lapsed into silence again. Regulus wondered if the awkward pauses in their conversations would ever disappear.

“So...What now?” Sirius asked, running a hand through his hair. Regulus huffed.

“I was hoping you’d tell me that.”

“You’re the smart one.”

“I’m the dead one living in his brother’s flat to hide from Her and the Dark Lord, with the only people knowing that I’m alive being my house elf, my brother, and my brother’s flatmate. I don’t exactly have much in the way of ideas for what happens next.”

“...We’re not the only ones who know you’re alive.”

“What?” Sirius grinned sheepishly. “Sirius, what did you do?”

“Look, it’s not that big of a deal-”

“I was just announced  _ dead _ today, Sirius. Someone knowing I’m alive is a pretty big deal.”

“It’s just James and Lily!”

“ _ Why? _ ”

“Because! I told them where I was going when I went to rescue you so that someone knew where I was!”

“Oh.” Regulus didn’t have much else to say to that.

“I couldn’t exactly  _ not _ tell them what happened.”

“...Oh.”

“Yeah.” Regulus crossed his arms, and Sirius sighed. “We have to stop jumping into defense all the time. We -- well, we need to just talk things through instead of getting mad at everything.” Regulus nodded.

“Yeah. No, yeah, you’re right.”

“Yeah? Okay,” Sirius said, standing up. “I need some coffee, you?”

“No, thank you,” Regulus replied, also standing, “I’ll just make myself some tea.” Sirius nodded.

“Right.” As the two went about making their own drinks, a new silence fell. But for the first time in a long while, Regulus found the silence nice. For once, it didn’t just feel like the calm before the storm.

Things really had been looking up.

Then again, the only direction to go from Grimmauld Place was up.

Well, no, but the only direction to go from  _ Death Eater _ was definitely up.

Regulus couldn’t help but think things could be good for the first time in -- well, for the first time.

**_Kill the boy and the man will appear_ **


End file.
